


Gift (who) Keeps on Giving

by AnotherAnon0



Series: Poor Little Rich Bitch: Extended [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alfred has to blow his butler, Angst and Porn, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Body Worship, Class Issues, Consensual Limits-pushing, Dehumanization, Depth play, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fucking Machines, Hair-pulling, Homophobic Language, Inferiority Kink, Jealousy, Love denial, M/M, Muscle Worship, Nicholai is a Jealous Hoe AGAIN, Rough Oral Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Service Submission, Sexual Slavery, Unrequited Love, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Verbal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnon0/pseuds/AnotherAnon0
Summary: On his birthday, Sergei gives Nicholai his pet to use as a gift.Nicholai isn't happy about it.[tags/warnings being added at the beginning of every chap]
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Alfred Ashford
Series: Poor Little Rich Bitch: Extended [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077350
Comments: 32
Kudos: 20





	1. Sloth

**Author's Note:**

> A very mild set up to what is coming. Ahem. Tags will immediately begin to apply to the next chapter.

If Nicholai closed his eyes, he could pretend he was at a hotel.

The way the heavy feather duvet wrapped around his body and the pillow cradled his skull perfectly. The way a delightful floral scent was being wafted from the air conditioning vents. The way the silky robe he was wrapped in cooled him as its fine fabric nestled against his flesh. 

A very fine hotel. One of the fancy, high-cost ones he'd only ever had the chance to stay in once before in his life. And even then, it hadn't been as lovely. He'd been on placement in some village made an apocalyptic wasteland by Umbrella, and had amused himself by hunkering down for a nap at an abandoned five-star resort.

His eyes fluttered open to stare at the ceiling, where a magnificent chandelier hung overhead. 

Yes, he could pretend he was at a hotel... But it wasn't. 

It was the private residence of Alfred Ashford on Rockfort Island -- a manor he'd never stepped foot into until that week. A manor he'd never even _wanted_ to step foot into. 

Alfred Ashford was a _pest_. A dictatorial lunatic whose role in the company was secured by his name and lineage. He had no talent, wasn't particularly intelligent, and contributed nothing of value. He lived lavishly through no effort of his own, and Nicholai had always hated him for it. While he and the other Umbrella mercenaries scarified and traumatised themselves in war-torn hellscapes to keep the company from falling to ruin after its constant disasters, Alfred got money deposited into his account for simply _breathing_.

After Sergei had told him he'd _adopted_ the younger man as his most recent sexual conquest, Nicholai had bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from lashing out in bitterness and rage. It had been _so long_ since Sergei had fucked him. He had been sure it was because he was getting older. But surely, _surely_ , he'd thought to himself, he was more worthy than some bourgeoise poof.

So, when Sergei had invited him to Rockfort Island for his birthday, he'd tried to refuse. Multiple times. But the older man had been insistent, telling him he deserved a break from his endless gunslinging campaigns. He said it would be enjoyable.

 ** _Enjoyable_**. Sergei also used that word when he'd offered him Alfred Ashford, naked, with a bow-like collar around his neck as his _gift_.

Both were anything _but_ enjoyable to Nicholai.

He felt out of place in the mansion, being doted on by a butler he didn't even know the name of. He felt out of place in the massive, marble bathtub, spending hours soaking like a prince. He felt out of place forking tiny morsels of expensive meat into his mouth -- ones he knew he couldn't tell apart from the cheap cuts he had at the diner by his apartment. He felt out of place, lounging around aimlessly in pyjamas and doing nothing at all. As much as he'd always strove to earn enough to make a comfortable life for himself, he felt out of place amongst the wealth and luxury. 

And that was even _before_ he factored in Alfred himself.

Of course, he hadn't been even remotely surprised when he discovered Sergei's definition of _sexual conquest_ was turning someone into his doting sex slave, though he had reserved a small bit of fascination that Alfred had submitted to the Colonel in such a fundamental way.

He didn't associate the prudish aristocrat with the brand of submission Sergei normally demanded, one not even he had been able to provide. He wondered how Sergei had broken the younger man, how much time and effort he'd put in to it, and how much enjoyment he likely derived from having an Ashford at his feet. The thought of it all upset Nicholai in a perversely jealous way.

Nicholai had immediately banished Alfred to a walk-in closet in the bedroom across the hall upon Sergei's departure. The younger man had been there for almost two days now.

He'd have preferred to leave him there until his _vacation_ week at the manor was up. But he knew Sergei would have been upset by it.

It was rude to reject a gift, after all.

And perhaps -- just perhaps -- he could find a way to make this worth his while.


	2. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chap: humiliation, rough oral sex, psychological torment, general cruelty, inferiority kink, major class issues, homophobic language
> 
> Summary: Nicholai makes Albert blow his Butler. That's it. That is all you need to know.

"I want vodka."

Nicholai spoke simply into the elegant receiver of the blue and gold phone, hanging up almost immediately after he finished issuing his request to the kitchen. He took a deep breath before turning on his heels to face what he'd left behind -- Alfred, kneeling on the carpet where he'd left him.

The older man slipped into the armchair just a few feet from where Alfred was, assessing him intently with a cocked lip and furrowed brow. 

He hated Alfred.

He absolutely, unequivocally _hated_ him.

Even the sight of his naked, vulnerable body provoked rage. His flawless, powdery, unscarred skin. His soft, undefined muscles. His glowing golden hair, only slightly tousled after spending a full day in a closet -- and no matter, the tousle was just _perfect_. Even his cock was cute -- flaccidly sitting between his plump thighs, a little pink tinge to the organ that made it look like it was blushing sweetly. 

Cute. Sergei had described Alfred as _cute_. Nicholai tried to recall if he'd ever used that word for him. No -- no he hadn't.

It had been easy to push his feelings to the back of his mind while he had Alfred locked away. Out of sight, out of mind, after all. But the moment he'd pulled the younger man from the closet and brought him to the bedroom, his vengeful thoughts resurfaced rapidly.

"You look nervous." Nicholai spoke, cutting the heavy silence that had settled between them with a venomous hiss, "Are you nervous, _Lord Ashford_?"

Alfred's pale blue eyes flicked between him and the floor, the stupid red gift bow Sergei had tied around his neck still limply hanging over his collarbone.

"N-no..." The younger man caught himself, "No, _Sir_!"

Nicholai scoffed a sound that almost made it to a laugh, "Sir?" The corners of his lips twitched upwards in sardonic amusement, "Sir? What a joke." 

He stood, crossing his arms over his chest and slowly closing the distance between them until he was able to loom over Alfred's kneeling body.

"What happened to _prince_ - _whatever-the-fuck_ of Rockfort Island? Hmm?" He smirked, "What happened to the snobby asshole who looked down us _lowly_ grunts? Us wall-walkers and door-holders? Hmm?"

Alfred peered up, cheek twitching, but silent. Nicholai huffed a dangerous breath through his nose.

" _ **Answer me**_."

~

Alfred swallowed hard, searching for a way to vocalise his thoughts.

"I'm s-sorry, Sir. I was trying t-to... to... I just did't k-know how to..." Nicholai's condescending gaze was baring down on him intensely as he stalled and stumbled, "I-I just... I was ashamed of my-myself. I didn't know how to-- to assume my place."

Nicholai snorted in disbelief, "Your _place_..."

_**knock knock knock** _

"Come in." Nicholai called, not even pausing his pressurised focused on Alfred to look towards the opening door.

The Butler stopped mid-step, the objects on the silver platter he held _clinking_ loudly as he came to an abrupt halt upon registering the sight before him. A blush came over his face as he reoriented his eyes elsewhere in the room, trying not to stare at the naked, kneeling form of the Master of the house

"Ap-apologies, Sirs." He coughed, "I have the... the beverage."

"Sir _ **s**_?" Nicholai chirped, amused. A quick glance down at Alfred found the man blossoming a beet-red blush, eyes firmly buried into the carpet, "Sergei never told you?"

The Butler cleared his throat, "Master Ashford and Colonel Vladimir appreciate their privacy, Sir, and it's n-none of my business what they do."

"Well! Isn't this your lucky day. You're about to find out all about what they've been up to." Nicholai grinned deviously, calling the worker over with a hooked finger. The grey-haired man made every attempt to not look down at Alfred, keeping the silver tray steady in his hands as he very, _very_ slowly stepped closer and closer to Nicholai. 

"What's your name, comrade?"

"S-Steven, Sir."

"Thank you, Steven." Nicholai smiled, taking the tray from the older man and setting it on the chair beside him, "Tell me, how long have you worked for _Master Ashford_?"

"Since... Since he was a small boy, Sir."

Nicholai began to fix himself a glass of the vodka, spooning small ice cubes into the frosted glass before pouring himself a healthy thumb from the ice-cold bottle. "And has he ever been an asshole to you?"

Steven peeped, eyebrows cocking up in surprise at the question.

"W-what, Sir?"

Nicholai turned, raising his glass to his lips, "Has he ever pushed you around? Pissed you off? Tell me."

The Butler began to half-chuckle, half-gasp, shaking his head in disbelief, "I... I..."

"What were your orders, Steven? With respect to my visit?"

Steven licked his drying lips, "To provide you with whatever you need while you are our... our guest here. To-- to follow your orders as I would Lord Ashford's..."

Nicholai nodded, appreciating the soft, numbing burn the liquor left in his mouth. He flicked a glance down at Alfred, whose cheeks were practically radiating heat like a furnace. He was taking deep, heavy breaths, humiliation emanating from every pore. Nicholai couldn't help but admit to himself that he was impressed at how the younger man hadn't protested.

 _'Sergei did a number on you, didn't he?'_ He thought bitterly. He looked back at the Butler, cocking his head to the side and waiting for an answer after reaffirming his authority.

"I... I suppose he has, Sir. I mean..." Steven began trying to answer the question, Adams apple bobbing in his throat loudly, "He can... be a bit much, sometimes. Yes." 

"Has he been any better since the Colonel started coming around?"

"A... a bit better, yes, Sir."

Nicholai smiled widely, "Well isn't this convenient? Alfred was _just_ telling me how he had a **_grand_** realisation about his place in the world, thanks to our dear Colonel." He looked down, "Weren't you?"

Alfred's eyes were becoming glassy, his fingers kneading into the carpet on either side of his thighs. 

"Weren't you?" Nicholai prodded again when an answer didn't immediately come.

"Y-yes."

"Tell Steven about it, I am sure he is curious." Nicholai said sweetly.

It was a challenge. 

~

Alfred hiccuped, biting his lower lip.

He felt overwhelmed, hazy.

Even despite his aggressive training, Sergei had usually kept their trysts isolated to the bedroom. While the Colonel had been a blessing, mercifully helping him work through his deepest, darkest sexual fantasies, he'd never let it escape them. Even the occasional publicly-worn dildo or nipple clamps hidden beneath a dress shirt was a private affair -- known only to them. While it had regulated his behaviour and excited him tremendously, there was some comfort in knowing only Sergei was aware of their presence on and in his body.

Alfred looked up at Nicholai, breathing slowly.

Sergei had described the silver-haired man as his favourite junior. A man he respected greatly for his military prowess. An old comrade. Alfred knew Sergei cared for him. He could tell just by how sincerely and passionately the older man described and spoke of him. So when the Colonel told him Nicholai's birthday was coming up, he had immediately offered to let the mercenary stay at the manor as a gift. He'd told Sergei to invite Nicholai to stay and do as he pleased at his expense.

He didn't anticipate being made apart of the offer. Nor did he anticipate the primal _excitement_ that came with.

_"You're my property. You can be shared with whoever I wish, as I wish."_

_"Yes, Sir."_

_"You will make my comrade happy, da? Anything he wants. You must obey."_

_"Yes, Sir."_

Sergei wanted to push his limits. But he never expected how much more aggressive Nicholai would be. The man genuinely seemed to hate him.

A hand suddenly weaving through and clutching at his hair pulled him from his thoughts. He gasped, looking back up at Nicholai frightfully.

"I said... **_Tell Steven_.**.." The Russian snarled.

"Y-yes, Sir!" Alfred peeped, waiting for the grip to leave him before he turned to his long-time servant, eyes pricking with the pain of oncoming tears. His cheeks boiled, gut heavy and sinking deeper and deeper into his hips. He hated this part -- The part where he realised how much he loved this kind of abuse. It had been a long road with Sergei, and now it felt as though he was having to relive it with a new man.

In front of his _fucking Butler_ , no less.

"I-- I've felt i-inferior my whole life..." He blathered, "I've h-had a de-desire to... to... submit... to-to be useful! T-to someone! Anyone!" 

Steven's grey eyebrows were reaching towards his hairline, cheeks flushing as he listened to his Master gasp and bawl through an obscene confession.

"I... I just-- I'm h-happier like this... I'm happy."

~

Nicholai scoffed loudly, taking the final swing of his vodka before refilling the glass.

 _'No wonder Sergei loves you...'_ He thought bitterly.

Assessing the Butler's face was almost giggle-provoking. The older man looked dizzy, if anything. His Adams apple was bobbing harshly in his throat, eyes widened. 

"You see?" Nicholai smugly smirked, "He has had a change of heart!"

"O-oh..." Steven sighed, a hand on his chest. 

"The Colonel really pacified you with his cock, didn't he, Alfred?" The Russian sneered, licking his lips, "You had a come-to-God moment, as they say."

Alfred mewed an inaudible response, head dipping in shame as Nicholai continued.

"You were just waiting for a big, strong man to put you in your... what did you call it? _Place_?" He barked a sardonic laugh, "Well, I do not believe reform can happen without penance."

Nicholai looked at Steven, grinning widely, "Would you like to use him, Steven? Would you like to help free him of the sins he committed while _out of place_?"

The younger man immediately shot up a shocked, wide-eyed stare of horror. His gaze rapidly flung between Nicholai and his Butler, struck silent by surprise. He shifted awkwardly on his numbing knees, realising with almost as much distress that his cock was beginning to twitch to life at the humiliation electrifying his brain. 

"O-oh, n-no, Sir.. I d-don't thi--" Steven began, but his protest was quickly interrupted by Nicholai.

"Alfred, have you ever mistreated our lovely friend Steven?" He said, "You're a cunt to everyone else. Surely you have been a cunt to poor, old Steven."

Tears began to trickle from Alfred's eyes, the glassy sheen that had blanketed the pale blue finally shattering into crystalline shards dripping down his cheeks.

"Yes, Sir."

"What did you do?"

"I-- his m...mother..." Alfred began to sob, the words catching in his throat as he raggedly gasped and bawled.

"His mother **what**?"

~

Steven stood straighter when Alfred uttered the words, his hand dropping away from his chest. 

The memory began to snap at his temples like an elastic band pulled too tight. 

"He wouldn't... give me the time off to see my mother..." He cleared his throat, "When she was passing. Last year."

Nicholai's eyes floated back towards him, lips pursing in a mix of curiosity and self-assured satisfaction.

"Oh, dear." He said, trying desperately -- but obviously -- to hide a smirk, "That must have been very hard for you."

"Yes. Yes it was."

The Russian huffed, overdramatising his response, "But surely he had a good reason?"

"He was having a... gala."

"Ah."

Steven took a deep breath through his nose, the tendons in his neck dancing above his pressed, white collar. He looked down at Alfred for the first time since he'd entered the room, disdain beginning to swell in his brown eyes. 

Silence wasn't allowed to settle in the room. Alfred's sobs interrupted every broken moment, and the whining began to grate on Steven's nerves rapidly. Nicholai's arm around his broke the upset that was roiling in his gut, the Russian pulling him towards the bed gently and letting him sit. He complied with the manipulation, fighting off the horrid taste of rage in his mouth.

"Let us liberate him of this sin, Steven." Nicholai whispered, "You don't have to be gracious."

~

Nicholai grinned widely as he turned back to Alfred, not bothering to hide his excitement. 

The younger man was still gasping and sobbing, still embroiled in the realisation of his cruelty being turned against him. 

And yet...

Set in his hips, his cock was growing. The cute pink flush was deepening to a mauve one, and it was clear the aristocrat's body was betraying him. It was responding to the humiliation and punishment with utter delight, and Nicholai couldn't help but wonder if Sergei had conditioned that response or simply taken advantage of it.

"Well, well, well..." Nicholai jeered, stepping closer to close the short distance between them, "Look at that, hmm? The faggot Lord Ashford _really does_ know his place!"

He reached down, grabbing Alfred's cock tightly without a moment of warning, squeezing it tightly. The younger man yelped through his sobs, hands involuntarily jerking to grasp at the rough touch.

"Your little dicklet knows what you need, doesn't it?" Nicholai sneered, utterly amused by the look of vulnerability on Alfred's reddened face, "It knows how you are meant to be treated!" 

He squeezed harder for a moment before releasing, using the opportunity of his bent posture to plant a light slap on Alfred's cheek with the same hand before standing.

Nicholai pointed to Steven, "You have mistreated this poor man." He sneered, "Apologise to him."

"I-I'm ss-sorr--" 

Alfred's effort was immediately interrupted by a smack on the back of the head, as though he were an unruly student.

"Idiot. Go to him and apologise properly -- beg for forgiveness at his feet!"

~

Alfred set his palms to the soft, antique carpet, shifting his weight and scrambling to comply. 

His head hung low as he crawled, utterly embarrassed by the occasional glimpse of his rock-hard member straining at his belly as he did. 

_'Do I have no shame?'_ He asked himself, tears still freely flowing down his cheeks, ' _Is nothing too much?'_

A pair of old, brown leather shoes coming between his palms told him when to stop. Immediately, he almost collapsed into them, forehead resting upon the toes of the loafers reverently, bowing as deeply as he was able to.

"P-please fo-for-give me-me...." He sobbed incoherently, "P-plea..se.. pl...s..."

He could feel when Nicholai was above him again. He could practically hear the smile beating down into his back. 

"I think you need to show how sorry you are, Alfred. Or else how do we know your sincerity?" He said calmly, "Don't you agree, Steven?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

Almost mechanically, Alfred lifted his head, hands leaving the carpet to drop heavily into Steven's hips. His fingers began to fumble at the older man's fly, fiddling with the button and zipper sloppily. His eyes and throat hurt from the sobbing, but his belly roiled and wretched with arousal, sending a steady pulse of heat through his shaft. He was disgusted with himself.

As he pulled the much older man's cock free of his slacks gently, Nicholai spoke.

"You will do a good job for him, _da_?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You will show him how sorry you are?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now use that throat for the one thing it was made for."

~

Nicholai was almost vibrating with amusement as he watched Alfred wrap his flushed lips around Steven's short, fat cock.

A haughty aristocrat giving his long-suffering butler oral sex. It was almost pornographic in its hilarity. 

He contently sipped his vodka as silky-sweet _slurps_ and grunts began to fill the room. To Alfred's credit, Nicholai could tell the younger man was making an effort, cheeks hollowing deeply as he sucked. 

Alfred bobbed slowly over the small manhood, eyes closed tightly and Adams apple bobbing. Nicholai wondered what might have been going through the young man's head, suckling the cum from his childhood servant's cock. If there was anything going through his head at all.

Steven's head was lulling back, rolling across his shoulders. His cheeks were painted a bright-red, cheeks trembling, utterly lost in ecstasy.

It was good. 

But it wasn't good enough.

Nicholai slipped his fingers into a patch of hair on the back of Alfred's head, pushing roughly before the younger man even had a chance to realise what was happening. 

Immediately, Alfred gasped and gargled around the cock, nose being shoved into Steven's greying pubic hair. The butler had a similar reaction, yelping sharply as he was taken deeper than he could ever remember being sheathed in his long life.

"I asked you to **_apologise_**..." Nicholai hissed. He emphasised his words by pushing harder, not giving Alfred one moment of respite, "I want you to _**choke**_ on this cock, not lick it like a fucking kitten."

Alfred whimper was moist, saliva and cum spittling messily from the corners of his mouth. Even though Steven's manhood wasn't particularly large, it was tickling the back of his throat with Nicholai's repeated pushes, forcing him to wade his lips around the older man's mound.

Nicholai kept pushing, listening to Steven's moans growing louder and louder for approval. Alfred's face was turning colours with the lack of oxygen, the sounds being emitted from his stuffed, coated throat utterly filthy.

"O... Oh... fuh..." Steven swallowed, mouth gaping open as his climax drew closer and closer, "I-- I'm g..."

Nicholai smirked, pushing one last time before holding Alfred's head steady, waiting for the Butler to orgasm.

"You're going to drink every last drop, faggot." He barked, "If even so much as one _sperm cell_ escapes your lips, you're not going to enjoy the consequences. Do you understand?"

He took Alfred's pathetic squeak as confirmation.

~

Steven's cum was thick and salty, the tendrils shooting into his throat and causing him to gag involuntarily.

Alfred tried -- oh, how he tried -- to comply with Nicholai's order. He started to swallow as much as he could, Adams apple bobbing harshly. But without having had oxygen for some minutes, he felt unable to keep up with the load filling his cheeks, and the cum began to seep towards his lips.

' _No... No...'_ He thought anxiously, but it was a task he knew was destined to be forfeited. He couldn't breathe, and the sloppy orgasm was so thick it was catching in his throat. He began to sputter and gargle, the ejaculate leaking from the corners of his lips.

"Oh dear..." He could hear Nicholai say, and the hand that had been keep him held down slipped away. Immediately, involuntarily, he pulled back, gasping and choking. Cum and saliva leaked down his chin, bubbling up from his throat and messily dripping down onto Steven's trousers.

"--m... s...rry..." His words were nothing but a mess of gurgles and pants.

Nicholai was sneering at him, lip cocked in disdain. 

"Look what you did, you stupid pig." He said, gesturing towards Steven, who was still completely caught in post-orgasmic bliss, "You've wrecked his clothes."

"S-ss... rr..yy..." Alfred attempted again, trying to orient himself, eyes rolling towards Nicholai. It was only when he saw how the other man was looking at him that he realised his hand was on his own cock. So primitively lost in his own pain-beckoned lust, he hadn't even noticed he'd been masturbating the whole time.

"Hand off, this instant."

Alfred complied as quickly as his body would allow, dropping his hand to his hip with a sob. 

"You are going to clean his clothes with your tongue, do you understand? You are going to suck every fucking stain out, if it takes you an hour or a full night."

"Y-yes... S-ir..."

"And then you are going to clean the floor. You got your dribble all over it."

"Y--s... Sir..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy is Alfred's trouble just starting.


	3. Gluttony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Dehumanisation, misgendering, muscle worship, inferiority kink (Which will apply to basically all chapters). homophobic language, verbal humiliation, misogynistic language 
> 
> Summary: Meal time for Alfred.
> 
> Notes: OH WAIT this was inspired by SweetNSimple's Hazel Eyed Kitten, which features AMAZING sweaty workout sex between Alex Kozachenko and Leon Kennedy. Check it out please!

As much as he hated to admit it, Nicholai couldn't deny he enjoyed the _facilities_ in the Ashford manor.

The wading pool, the rose gardens, the on-call service for whatever he needed -- it was a rare glimpse into a life he'd never imagined being able to sample for himself. 

And then there was Alfred.

He'd made the younger man sleep under the bed the previous night, after he'd finished pleasuring his Butler. Despite his advanced age, Steven had come back for seconds and thirds of Alfred's throat. Nicholai did not deny him. It was while watching Alfred choke on the buildup of cum in his throat that Nicholai realised the blond might not be such a burden during his birthday vacation after all.

It might even be a bit of _fun_.

A stress-reliever.

A therapeutic jaunt into dominating a man he'd harboured such a hatred for. 

A way to poke back at Sergei for neglecting him. Indirectly, of course. 

Nicholai had pulled Alfred from beneath the bed with fervour that day, forcing him to crawl - with the occasional kick to the side - to the garden. He washed him there, spraying him down roughly with the ice-cold water from the hose, scrubbing him with an old rag he found discarded by a flower pot. He'd even stuffed the end of the hose inside of the younger man, delighting in his squeals and gasps as water filled and cramped his guts, cleaning him out on the inside.

 _"Not so cute now... are you, princess?"_ He'd sneered afterwards, mocking how Alfred's wet hair was a dripping mess, and patches of splotchy, red, cold skin marred his pale canvas of flesh.

Nicholai left him in the greenhouse to dry then, chained to a low, low bench with a short, short leash that forced his head to bow into the ground. And then he went on a long jog around the massive property, strong body demanding some exercise after the days of lazy lounging he'd already enjoyed.

When he returned, over an hour later, he was a sweaty mess. It was a beautiful summer day on Rockfort, and the heat had forced him to strip his thin t-shirt mid-jog. Wandering through the greenhouse to find where he'd left Alfred made it even worse -- the massive glass shelter was so humid and damp.

He smirked when he spotted the younger man, still forced in his awkward, stressful position. 

"So good of you to wait for me, princess!" He chirped, as though Alfred had any choice in the matter. He kneeled and unchained the younger man, letting Alfred sit back on his haunches with a grunt as his aching muscles stretched out of the deep, uncomfortable bow. The moment he did, Nicholai noticed the small puddle of white orgasm that had pooled on the floor -- roughly just beneath where Alfred's cock had been hanging.

" _Zhalkiy_!" Nicholai sneered, realising immediately why Alfred was taking so long to make eye contact. A blush began to blossom on the younger man's cheeks, his eyes remaining focused on the floor.

"Pathetic creature... I should have cuffed you when I left." The Russian continued, shaking his head in disbelief and moving to stand, "Did Sergei fry your brain or are you really that shameless?"

"S-sorr-y, Sir..." Alfred peeped, finally peering up at the older man. The blush on his cheeks waxed even deeper, breath audibly catching in his throat as he took in the sweat-glistening ripples of Nicholai's well-worked muscles. For just a moment, his gaze followed the deep, dark contour of the Russian's v-line, the handsome contour disappearing down into the band of his low-riding grey sweatpants. 

His reaction wasn't lost on Nicholai, whose cheeks immediately balled as a devilish grin pulled his lips from his teeth predatorily. 

"See something you like, faggot?" He mewled, cocking his head to the side.

Alfred didn't respond, eyes bolting down towards the floor immediately.

"Don't be shy..." Nicholai insisted, a teenaged bully-like tone in his voice, "You have no business acting like a blushing schoolgirl after you just finished _jacking off_ to being bound to the floor like a dog!"

Alfred bit his bottom lip, pale eyes flicking back up at the older man.

"Do you like my body, princess?"

"Y-yes, S-Sir..." 

"Up on you knees." Nicholai ordered, snapping his fingers impatiently. Alfred immediately complied, still kneeling but holding himself as tall as he could. Nicholai wrapped a hand around the back of the blond's head, pulling him closely until Alfred's nose collided with his abdomen. The younger man gasped, but didn't resist. His hands involuntarily grabbed at Nicholai's sweatpants, holding them in self-soothe.

"Why don't you help me clean off, princess?" Nicholai purred condescendingly, "Make yourself useful."

Alfred tried to pace himself and show a bit of dignified restraint -- but he was utterly incapable of it. His tongue had begun to lull from his lips before Nicholai's had even finished speaking.

He felt as though he couldn't control himself as lapped and licked at the sweaty muscles excitedly, soft whimpers escaping him as his tongue travelled between the deep valleys of the incredible anatomy. Nicholai tased salty and sweet, and his freshly-exercised body was emitting the most lust-inducing, masculine pheromones. Alfred felt utterly overwhelmed by them.

Nicholai scoffed a chuckle at the display of instantaneous submission. The blond's eyes were almost rolling behind their fluttering lids, and he seemed lost in pleasure from the perverse act of worshipping another man's muscles.

"You disgust me." Nicholai couldn't help but speak the thought that had been swirling through his mind as he had looked on, "You are an utterly contemptible creature."

Unsurprisingly, Alfred shuddered at the words, but he continued his ministrations without interruption.

"Look at yourself... So weak and despicable an excuse for human that you spread your legs like a common whore the moment you see a _real_ man." He clucked his tongue, "Is that what happened with Sergei? Hmm? Maybe he didn't have to break you at all... Maybe you're just that pathetic."

Alfred was practically trembling, the rough lapping of his tongue scraping across Nicholai's belly becoming interloped with jagged, needy breaths.

"You are a freak of nature."

_lap_

_lap_

_lap_

"You have no purpose as a man..."

_lap_

_gasp_

_lap_

"At least a woman can bare children while she's leeching off of a man. You can't even offer that!"

_lap_

_lap_

_lap_

"You can't cook or clean, either."

_gasp_

_gasp_

_lap_

"All you can do is beg real men to forgive you for being useless and pray they give you purpose. Well that's _not my fucking job_!"

"Gahh..!"

Alfred hiccuped a loud pant, forehead pressing against Nicholai's skin tightly as an involuntary orgasm wracked through him. His untouched cock began spurting weak tendrils of cum all over his thighs. He whimpered and sobbed, hips wiggling and thighs twitching pathetically.

Internally, Alfred was screaming at himself, horrified and humiliated that he'd been so entangled in Nicholai's words that he didn't even realise an orgasm was building inside of him. His upset amplified many times over when he noticed that a bit of his milky discharge had leaked onto Nicholai's running shoe, something the older man immediately cursed at the sight of.

"Look what you've done, you filthy animal!" 

"-m s-so so-rry, S-Sir..." 

Nicholai scoffed, grabbing Alfred by the back of the head and planting a harsh slap across his flushed cheeks.

"Garbage!" He spat, tears beginning to slip from the younger man's eyes, "I don't even want you to lick them clean, you'll probably find some way to fuck that up, too."

He straightened himself out, huffing loudly through his nose.

"I was going to be nice and let you eat porridge tonight, but I think I'll have Steven send down some _dog food_." He sneered, turning on his heels and marching towards the greenhouse exit.

"And if you touch your cock one more time today and I'm cutting it off!" Nicholai called out nonchalantly, stopping to turn as he reached the room's threshold. "It's not like you need it."


	4. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings for chap: inferiority kink, humiliation, verbal abuse, fucking machines, slight angst, homophobic language, dehumanisation, overstimulation, dildos, a little puppy play

On the fourth day of his week-long vacation, Sergei called. The man was wrapped up in business on some island in the Pacific, securing a land acquisition or some such thing.

Nicholai had initially been happy to hear the older man's voice -- but a glance across the room at where Alfred was kneeling, facing the corner like a punished child, stilled his mood almost instantaneously.

"Comrade!"

"Mm, hello, Sergei."

"How has the birthday boy been enjoying himself?" Sergei's voice was cut with the static of the line, but identifiably chipper nonetheless. 

Nicholai shrugged to himself, "It's been fine."

"Has our host been good to you?"

Nicholai's eyes flicked back towards Alfred, a small, cruel smirk pulling at his lips. He feigned a dramatic sigh of dissatisfaction.

"I'm afraid not..." Nicholai pouted.

"Oh?" Sergei's voice dropped, "What has happened?"

"Well, you know I am not one to complain, _Seryozha_..." Nicholai began twirling the phone's cord in his finger like a teenaged girl, eyes still firmly planted on Alfred's back, "But _that thing_ you left me with has been disobedient. Smarmy. Entitled. He's made a wreck of my vacation." 

It took everything inside of him not to giggle when he saw Alfred's arms twitch in response to his words. He could almost hear the younger man swallow.

Of course it was a lie. Alfred had been nothing if not deferential, subservient, and joyously obedient. He had expressed his desire to submit in one million different ways. But Nicholai was feeling petty. 

"I... I am sorry to hear this, _Kolya_." Sergei spoke after a moment of pause, voice audibly guilt-ridden, "I had thought he would be a good companion for your visit. I gave him strict orders to obey to you as he would me-- perhaps he needs some retraining."

"I agree! I think he needs quite a bit of **_retraining_**." Nicholai said loudly, delighting when a shiver wracked across Alfred's shoulder, "You are _absolutely_ correct!"

Some jumbled noises peeped through the receiver, a distant voice calling for Sergei.

"Ah -- I must go, _Kolya_." Sergei said quickly, "I trust you can handle the situation. Tell him to show you to the training room, if you haven't found it already. Use what you need to. Get him in line."

" _Spasiba_." Nicholai smiled, setting the phone back on the receiver casually after Sergei hung up.

He paused for a moment, fingers lingering over the telephone's back as he pursed his lips and watched Albert twitch and tremble in the corner, clearly anticipating some sort of retribution for whatever lies Nicholai had told Sergei.

Slowly, Nicholai sauntered over towards Alfred. He loomed over his kneeling form for a few silent seconds, letting the tension build before he cast a light, corrective smack across the back of the blond's head.

"Why didn't you tell me about the _training_ _room_ , fag boy?"

Alfred squeaked, shoulders hunching, "I-I th-thought M-Master would h-have told you, Sir. I'm s-sorry."

"So you're blaming Sergei?"

"No! N-no!" Alfred snapped around, so desperate to correct the record he broke the position he'd been ordered into.

Nicholai snorted at the younger man's desperation, licking his lips as he stared down condescendingly.

"Well... fucking show me." He said, "Crawl there. Let me see what this _training room_ is."

\--

The room Alfred led him to was down a series of long, ornate halls. The man was quite shaky on his hands and knees, but Nicholai didn't care for his slow speed and would occasionally take his foot to Alfred's side to cruelly topple him over and laugh. 

Once they finally arrived, Nicholai was almost awe-struck. 

He'd never seen such an extensive display of perversities in his life. It was a veritable candy store of pornographic instruments.

Neatly organised upon shelves, hooks, and tables were all manner, sizes, and harshness of dildos, whips, restraints, gags, collars, and any other tool of torture one could imagine. Nicholai hadn't seen the majority of these sorts of items, and even those he had -- it was mostly limited to the seedy adult videos he refused to admit he sometimes watched. Though he had no issue with his comrade's proclivities -- he wasn't nearly as sexually devious as Sergei. He had always treated sex with a very utilitarian attitude, much to his mentor's chagrin. It was something to be done, gotten over with, and forgotten about until the next urge hit. Like eating.

It's part of what had always left the faintest chasm between them. 

Nicholai had tried to please Sergei sexually. He'd been eager and inviting, and had even tolerated a great deal. But no matter what he did, he always found Sergei drifting towards others.

Younger. Blonder. Meeker. Weaker. Softer. Smaller. _Cuter_.

He'd laughed it off, initially. He'd rolled his eyes and shooed the older man away with a nonchalant hand, smirking and sighing through the tales of his sexual conquests.

Though despite his attempts to demonstrate how little he cared about being looked over, it had begun to fester and ferment within him like mould growing on a wet wall. It had upset him. Saddened him. Stressed him.

But now, having been gifted one of Sergei's beloved pets to use like a doll, it _angered_ him.

It _angered_ him how willing Alfred was. How dedicated. How much affection and admiration he must have had for Sergei to let him completely turn his life upside down. How they were just such a good _match_ for each other.

Nicholai perused the various offerings, slowly sauntering around the room and tickling surfaces with the tip of a finger.

"What's this?" Nicholai asked, coming towards the back of the room. He curiously assessed a larger piece of equipment -- one he'd never seen before. A large, black box was affixed to the end of an black rubber-coated examination table. From it, a long, thick metal rod was protruding. 

There was a button on the box, and Nicholai pressed it experimentally. His eyebrows raised when the rod began to thrust... pushing out of the box and pulling in, some gear-based mechanisms stirring to life inside. A sadistic smile creeped across his face as he began to put data together like puzzle pieces in his mind.

"Whore! Come here." Nicholai snapped his fingers, pointing to the table. 

\--

Alfred's Adams apple had been bobbing in anxiety and anticipation the entire time he watched Nicholai tour the _training room_.

The man was so smarmy, so self-assured and cruel. Every snort and scoff went straight to Alfred's cock, the part of his brain that housed his inferiority kink going absolutely wild with delight. He knew it wasn't just _play_ for Nicholai -- the man genuinely hated him. And for whatever reason, the added fear that came with the unpredictable nature of the older man simply made everything more interesting.

Sometimes Alfred knew he was going too far. He felt like there was something wrong with him.

There was no reason his cock should have been rock hard in his lap while taking such abuse. There was no reason he should have enjoyed the thought of ruining his own life, reputation, family legacy -- all chasing the next humiliating orgasm. It wasn't normal. None of it was _normal_. But he'd known since he was a child he wasn't normal -- ever since he'd stolen the first skirt slip from his mother's drawers and wore it up over his bosom like a little dress. He couldn't even remember how young he was when he made the conscious decision to intentionally get himself caught crossdressing by his family just to experience the abuse and shaming that came with it. It had quickly become an addiction, an obsession. And like any drug addict, he was prepared to destroy himself to get his fix.

Sergei had never quite taken it that far. The man had incredible sexual prowess, and the uncanny ability to make him feel small, pathetic, and useless without barely saying a word. 

But Nicholai was different. So, so different. He was all of Alfred's darkest fantasies come to life, and the young man couldn't help but wonder if Sergei had known that all along.

When Nicholai called him over, Alfred scrambled to comply, crawling towards the table and mounting it as requested. 

He'd been on this table many times, but it seemed new and exciting now.

\--

Nicholai's nose wrinkled and his eyes rolled when he caught sight of Alfred's obvious erection. The condescension made the blond tremble.

"You're like a dog, aren't you? A filthy animal." Nicholai scoffed, turning to assess the available dildos he could affix to the end of the rod, now situated between Alfred's spread thighs. 

His eyes immediately fixated on the largest one. A deep shade of purple, the long, thick toy was deeply ribbed from one end to the other. It almost looked like a washboard surface, stacked disks of rubber bending flexibly as Nicholai picked it up. The toy had a hefty weight to it, and paired with the impressive length he knew it was going to make its presence well-known in Alfred's guts. It was perfect.

Nicholai saw the blond squirm and heard him whimper when he held up the toy, briefly displaying it before beginning to push it over the metal rod. It affixed itself via a small, tight hole in the base, and Nicholai wriggled it into place quickly.

"You disgust me." Nicholai said casually, considering leaving the man unlubricated before finally giving in to the small bit of decency he had left and grabbing the bottle that was nearby. Alfred shivered when he felt the cool, watery lubricant be poured over him nonchalantly, Nicholai not taking much care as to ensure it got to where it needed to go specifically, and simply dumping the entire bottle's contents all over Alfred's genitals and the dildo. By the time he was done, it looked like someone had poured a bucket of water on Alfred's hips.

"You actually disgust me, what kind of creature gets off on this perversity?" He smirked, almost completely disassociating himself from the situation as though he weren't participating at all, "Being a high class dog really fucked up your stupid little blond head, didn't it?"

"Yes, Sir."

Nicholai snorted in amusement when Alfred actually responded. 

With two fingers, as if disgusted, Nicholai plucked the greasy head of the dildo and pressed it against Alfred's hairless, blushing, slit-like hole. Slipping it into Alfred was far easier than he had anticipated it would be, and he couldn't help but laugh when Alfred's hips bucked up slightly, a hiss of delight breathing from him as the first few ribs of the dildo were sucked into his needy body. Alfred's cock was beginning to dribble precum, pearls of watery milk leaking down his small cock like wax dripping down a candle. 

"An animal!" Nicholai repeated, wiping his fingers on Alfred's stomach like he were a towel before methodically working through each of the restraints that were built into the table's sides, binding Alfred's wrists and ankles to them. 

"You are very confused if you think you are going to enjoy this..." Nicholai smirked, "Perhaps for the first few seconds. But we'll see how eager you are in a few hours."

\--

Alfred's eyes snapped open widely. Immediately, he was ripped from the soft, gentle pleasure he had been experiencing from having the front of his insides just barely caressed by the dildo's head.

"H-hours?!" He squeaked, barely able to finish his thought before Nicholai hit the button on the machine's motor, causing the rod to thrust forward roughly. In that one movement, the entire dildo was sheathed instantly. Alfred squealed, hips trying to buck upwards again but unable to due to how deeply he'd been impaled. 

The dildo was flexible, and had easily snaked around the bend in his rectum to push deeply into his sigmoid. He flailed against his restraints, overwhelming, unidentifiable sensations washing through him as every nerve in his body seemed to be activated all at the same time. 

He didn't even notice his orgasm, cum squirting from his cock pathetically, his prostate utterly ravaged by the ribs on the dildo. 

"O-oh m-my g- _ **god**_!" Alfred screeched, toes curling and drool leaking from the corner of his lip.

The fucking machine had different settings, and Nicholai was quickly learning his way through them. He pressed different buttons, prompting the rod to jerk or thrust in different ways. The older man giggled cruelly when one of the settings cased the dildo to push in and begin a thrusting rhythm from its current position in Alfred's guts, forcing it even deeper. Nicholai could see the outline of the toy with every deep, sucking breath of agonising pleasure Alfred took, the dildo almost twisted into a _C_ shape as it navigated its way through the young man's innards. 

When Nicholai was finally able to train the rhythm into a long, simple, quick thrust, he stopped fiddling with the switches. The thick coating of lubrication was gushing and squealing between Alfred's legs perversely with every jolt of the dildo inside of him.

"This should do." He muttered, looming over Alfred for a few moments and watching him squirm and redden in overstimulation, the soft, untrained muscles on his body clenching every few seconds.

Nicholai tried to ignore his own erection, covertly adjusting his sweatpants pants so the bulge wasn't as obvious. He was sure Alfred wouldn't have been able to see it anyway, so lost in his own world -- eyes almost empty. But he certainly wasn't going to admit to himself that the sight of an aristocrat-turned-his-best-friend-and-former-lover's pet being defiled was arousing him as much as it was.

"Bark for me." He said suddenly, unsure of even where the demand was coming from in his mind.

Alfred's glassy blue eyes flicked towards him, Adams apple bobbing.

"Bark like the bitch in heat you are." His voice was low, raspy, needy.

"W-w-woof." 

"Again."

"W... Woof. Woof!" Alfred's voice was even more needy than his was. 

Nicholai took a deep breath, turning from the table and heading towards the exit.

He was going to go for lunch somewhere else on the island. Maybe go for a jog, too. He'd leave Alfred until the evening, he decided, and charge the butler with the responsibility of checking up on him to ensure he wasn't dead. Perhaps offer the man Alfred's mouth as compensation.

But he needed to stop at the washroom first.


	5. Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chap: love denial, extreme jealously, dildos, self-humiliation, emotional abuse, verbal humiliation, overstimulation, heavy angst
> 
> A short little angsty chapter.

"He doesn't love you."

Nicholai spoke casually, trying to ignore the little quiver in his own voice. 

His leg was bobbing incessantly as he sat, wineglass perched in one hand over the arm of the chair he'd taken up residence in for the last hour.

On the floor before him, Alfred had been putting on a rather agonising show. Legs spread, hips tilted upwards, hands slipping over the lube-greased base of a dildo he was thrusting into himself. His stamina had deteriorated after his second or third orgasm, the self-fuck show becoming more and more of an errand. A chore. A task he was only continuing because Nicholai had refused to let him stop. 

A bit of saliva was stringing down the corner of Alfred's flushed, slowly-panting lips, eyes lulling, cheeks a burning red. The sensations he was feeling were sinking. Heavy. Hot. They were almost numbing, beating through his fluttering belly in waves as the blond forced himself to continue. His thrusts were slow but deep, tugging the dildo out to the flared base of the head before pushing it back in until it bottomed out.

Nicholai's eyes were combing over Alfred's body. Porcelain skin glistening with sweat, making him look like he were made of glass. His overstimulated cock lay limply across his hip, the cute, little organ blushing like it always did. 

_Cute. Cute. Cute._

So cute. Even now. Even preforming his debauchery. It made Nicholai sick.

The Russian downed the rest of his wine in a single gulp, setting his glass on the small table to his side. 

"Did you hear me? He doesn't." His nostril cocked in disgust, eyes narrowing as they caught Alfred's baby blue ones, "Have you gone deaf? Is the rubber clogging your ears?"

Alfred shivered visibly, "Y-y-n-no, S-sir!"

Nicholai slowly stood, wrapping his arms around his chest and stalking a bit closer to loom over Alfred with a glare that could cut through cement.

"He doesn't love you." He repeated yet again.

"O-o-ok-ay, S-sir!" Alfred swallowed, still working the dildo in and out of his hole, "I k-kn-know."

Nicholai scoffed, "You _know_. What do you know? You know nothing." The older man lifted a hand to scratch at the crescent-shaped scar that dipped from his eyebrow to his lip, the skin there a bit rough from the improper healing. It was getting old, but where the cheek had been ripped open was still _twanged_ with phantom pains sometimes.

"You don't know anything." He murmured, "You don't know that he will just throw you away when he is done with you."

Alfred winced, Adams apple bobbing in his neck.

"You don't know what it will feel like when you suddenly aren't loved anymore and you don't even understand what you did wrong." Nicholai dropped his hand, a snarl forming on his face, "You don't know how you'll look at yourself in the mirror every day and wonder why you weren't good enough."

When he noticed Alfred had ceased his ministrations, eyes trained upwards with an indescribable look in them, he barked in fury, " _ **Who the fuck told you to stop, bitch**_?!"

Alfred squeaked and resumed, grunting as the muscles in his abdomen cramped for what felt like the millionth time.

Nicholai took a deep breath through his nose, lips twitching as he tried to regain his composure. But there was no composure to be regained. He began to slowly pace the room, breath feeling thinner and sharper in his throat with every short inhale.

"He'll use you up until no one could ever want you and you could never want anyone else again and then-- then just... get rid of you." Nicholai looked away when his nose began to crinkle, "What do you know about that? Nothing."

Nicholai turned back with a scoff, "Do you love him?"

Alfred didn't know how to answer. The area of his brain capable of conscious, complex thought had shrunk to a pea in the nearly hour-long self-fuck performance he'd been forced to put on. But still, a part of him was anxious at the proposition and any answer he could give.

If he said no, Sergei would surely find out.

If he said yes, Nicholai would likely get angry.

It was a veritable mine-field either way. 

He looked at Nicholai, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple as he tried to assess the softening look on the older man's face. He didn't know how to communicate to him that the prospect of being used up and thrown away was infinitely exciting to him. After a life of being perfect and treated with reverence for no reason at all -- it was all he'd ever wanted. As much as he cared for Sergei, he knew the man's appetite was near-insatiable, and even at his his most whorish he'd never be enough. It was what he _loved_ about him -- his uncanny ability to make him feel useless, small, pathetic, awful. 

But Nicholai clearly had other opinions on being used like a cumrag and tossed in the garbage, and Alfred tried not to make it obvious he saw the hurt in the other man's eyes. 

_**knock knock knock** _

Alfred mewed when the rasp on the door came as a blessing to distract Nicholai, thankful for the reprieve he'd been magically afforded.

"Come in."

It was Steven, the butler. The man had his coat on, and was holding a daybag. His brown eyes fluttered down towards his master on the floor, and the abuse he was dealing to his clearly sore cunt. 

"I was just about to head to the ferry, Sir." He cleared his throat, attention turning towards Nicholai. The Russian had given him a few days mini-break, and he'd decided to go to a nearby resort in Argentina on Alfred's dime, "Is there any last thing you need before I go?"

Nicholai nodded curtly, pointing a straightened finger down at Alfred, "Fuck him."

A grin quickly grew on Steven's wrinkled face. He set his daybag down and stepped into the room, immediately unwrapping his scarf from his neck. Alfred squeaked pathetically at being offered up like a chore.

"And make sure you're rough this time. Slap him around. Show him how _unloved_ he is."


End file.
